


Boyfriend Shirt

by OriginalCeenote



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Ice Cream, Logan listens, Mild Angst, Ororo talks in her sleep, Postcoital Midnight Snacks, RoLo, Tumblr Prompt, the author is a horrible person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-19 23:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18980746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalCeenote/pseuds/OriginalCeenote
Summary: Ororo talks in her sleep. Logan listens.“You’ve never lied to me,” Ororo told him, after a moment.“Ya’ve never seemed like the kinda dame who woulda bought it.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Talliya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talliya/gifts).



> Just using this ficlet as a warm-up. I've been in a writing slump. And this archive could always use some more RoLo.

The faint indent in the now-cooled sheets irked her for a moment before Ororo felt the rush of concern for Logan’s absence. She peeled back the covers and pulled on his abandoned shirt left crumpled on the floor, still smelling his scent in its soft, gray folds. She summoned a gust of wind that snatched open the skylight windows and pulled her off her feet, up from her loft. Judging from the position of the moon in the sky, she could tell it was about three AM. The stars twinkled a greeting but gave her no answers as to where Logan went. She lingered a moment, feeling the gusts lifting her hair and cool her overheated skin. He wasn’t out on the grounds. His Harley Davidson sat just inside the edge of the garage door.

“All right, then,” she mused. “Maybe the den.”

She drifted down, landing soundlessly on bare feet, and she crept down the stairs, Ororo heard faint snores through the doors as she moved through the hallway. As she reached the ground floor, she smelled cigar smoke wafting through the air. 

 

Logan heard the creak of the mattress when she woke and sighed to himself. Of _course_ she’d come looking for him and expect answers. The Haagen-Daas container of vanilla ice cream yawned open on the table next to him next to his empty, sticky bowl while the cigar burned slowly to ash in the glass tray. The thought of a beer hadn’t appealed to him, somehow, and his girlfriend’s habits had begun to rub off on him ever since they became open about their relationship. This was both old and new, never a matter of “if” so much as “when.” Ororo seeped into his cracks and hollows until he couldn’t remember feeling whole without her.

“Is there anymore?” Her tone wasn’t accusing. Without looking up at her, Logan turned and retrieved a bowl from the cupboard. He scooped a generous amount of the melting goodness into it while she pulled up a chair. She smirked up at him, all tousled hair and puffy eyes. Logan smirked back at the sight of his faded shirt molded to her curves, long brown legs sprawled under the kitchen table. They’d been wrapped around him not even three hours prior. Logan slid the bowl in front of her and bent down for a brief kiss, earning himself her faint chuckle.

“Figured you wouldn’t appreciate me finishin’ it off, darlin.”

“I knew there was a reason we got along so well.”

“That ain’t the _only_ reason, ‘Ro.”

She dug into the ice cream, humming appreciatively over it, sucking every drop from the spoon. Logan felt his manhood twitch again in response to the tip of her pink tongue cleaning the white cream from her plump, lower lip. 

“What kept you up?”

“Eh.” He shrugged noncommittally. Ororo quirked her brow.

“Eh?” she repeated.

“Nothin’ much.”

“Okay.”

Logan sighed. He rubbed his nape and leaned back in his seat, giving her a strange, heavy look.

“Anyone ever tell ya that ya talk in yer sleep, darlin’?”

Her next spoonful of ice cream hovered just short of her mouth. “Not… up until now. Why?” Then she set it down. “What’s wrong?”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong. Just… maybe it ain’t even worth mentioning.”

“What’s not worth mentioning?”

“Do ya ever still wish you were with Forge?”

Ororo’s brows drew together and she straightened up in her seat. “Hell, no.”

Logan’s eyebrows twitched up. “Ever?”

“Logan. Don’t doubt for a second that _that_ particular ship has sailed. It’s never drifting back into the port.”

“Ya said his name last night.”

Ororo huffed.

“Well, ya did.”

“I dreamed about him,” she admitted. “Anna asked me about him the other day. She wanted to know if his old sub-routine that he programmed into the Danger Room was still on the database. I hadn’t even thought about him in I don’t even know how long until she brought him up.”

Logan grunted. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Eh?”

“Is it?”

Her voice held a faint lilt of annoyance. Logan sighed again.

“But ya dreamt about him.”

“Bits and snatches.” She went back to her ice cream, but her posture was wary, not the easy, casual slump of only minutes before. “It wasn’t happy.”

“How much do ya remember of it?”

“It was the night we met. Sometimes, I still think about it.”

“Ya never talk about it.”

“You never asked. It wasn’t exactly love at first sight.”

“Bells didn’t ring, huh?” 

“I woke up in his loft. I couldn’t feel my connection to the earth. Rain was pouring outside, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.” Her laugh was raw and self-deprecating. “That wouldn’t be a problem for anyone else.”

“Guess not, darlin.”

“He was charming. Polite. Deferential. And guilty. That should have been a red flag.”

“Yer awfully good at ignoring those, ‘Ro.”

“Why? Do I have a track record?”

“I love red meat. Smokin’. Drinkin. Being in the thick of the fight. Ain’t exactly good news.”

“Those weren’t dealbreakers.” 

“How ‘bout the killin’?”

“Nobody’s perfect.”

Logan felt his eyes spark. His hand shook as he reached for his stogie, and he took a long, hungry drag.

“You’ve never lied to me,” Ororo told him, after a moment. 

“Ya’ve never seemed like the kinda dame who woulda bought it.”

“It’s not what you do,” she countered. “I like my men down to earth.”

“Oh, ya do, do ya?”

“Mm-hmm.” She took another bite of her dessert. “You know me pretty well.”

“Force of habit.”

“I hope it’s not a habit you’re ready to break.”

“Hell, no.”

Logan set down the cigar and gave her a sober look, but she saw the twinkle in his dark eyes when he reached for her ice cream bowl, hooking his finger over the rim and snatching it away. She squawked at him for a moment, until he hooked his foot around the leg of her chair and jerked it toward him until she was right beside him. Logan leaned over and transferred her to his lap before he took up the spoon. His flesh was warm against her back, and she shimmied herself against him to get more comfy. Logan dipped the spoon into the ice cream and waited for her to consume it. His arm around her waist was snug and possessive.

“The next time you hear me talking in my sleep, wake me up and talk to me. I won’t mind.”

“Oops. Ya missed a little bit. Right here.” Logan teased her with the spoon, daubing a little of the ice cream on the corner of her mouth before leaning in and kissing it off. “Let me get that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Things you said when you thought I was asleep.” This is a more apt use of the prompt Talliya gave me that came to me after the fact.

Logan listened to the shower spray slapping the tiles as he let it run through his thick tufts of hair, letting it scald him a little as a distraction. Another bad night. Nothing new. He’d crept out of the loft and headed back down to his old bedroom, glad that Charles hadn’t assigned it to a new student yet so he could shower without waking ‘Ro. He’d left her sprawled and warm under the covers, a soft smile on her face. But all the old memories rose up, since his goddamned healing factor wouldn’t let them die. Voices. Faces. Blood. It came back to him every now and again, no matter how hard he tried to redeem himself and make “the rest of his life” a purpose instead of a sentence.

She’d come to him just as the melancholy set in. Ororo padded into the loft and gently plucked the beer bottle from his fingers, not caring that it was still half-full. She straddled his lap and kissed him deeply, slowly, making a pleased noise as his hot palms found her flesh, stroking her through the slick satin of her nightgown. Logan chuckled, then groaned as she ground herself down against him, raking her fingernails through the back of his rumpled hair. His fingers traced the long line of her spine and tangled in her long tresses, still cut in the extravagant Mohawk that left behind just enough of it to caress. Her fingers then danced over the buttons of his shirt, making short work of them, and he felt his nipples ruche once they were exposed to the cool air of the loft, then to her light touch. Logan shivered and opened for her, letting her explore his mouth.

He scooped her up and carried her to the bed, trailing clothes and inhibitions, and he took his time, learning all the ways she could say his name. Logan only let himself go once she shuddered in the throes of her final climax and went deliciously limp in his arms. Hers crept around him before she drifted off. He listened to her soft, even breathing and wallowed in her scent and warmth. It was all over him. Logan couldn’t get enough of it. 

But the memories came back before the sheets even had the chance to cool.

He disentangled himself from her and retucked the covers around her before he sat up in bed.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “ _Fuck_.” He scrubbed his palm over his stubbled jaw as his mood shifted back to his baseline. He turned and gazed down into her face. 

“Why me, baby doll?” he mused. “I ain’t good enough for ya, ‘Ro. Never could be if I tried.”

She didn’t move. Not so much as a twitch. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he muttered. “M’sorry.”

He left the room and retrieved his beer, downing the rest of it before he even reached the foot of the stairs.

He needed a minute. Away from her scent and the screaming thoughts that he wasn’t good enough. That he would lose her one day, the way he lost everyone he ever cared about. The prospect of outliving her and watching the years drag on only God knew how long made him feel hollow. He tried to shake it off, hoping the heat of the shower would chase away that chill. 

He had to be losing his touch. He never even heard her footsteps before the bathroom door swung open.

“Logan? Bright Lady help me… what the hell did you just tell me?”

Logan’s eyes snapped open, and Ororo stalked over to the tub and jerked back the curtain in a hiss of metal rings. Her blue eyes snapped at him, and Logan stared at her in surprise.

“Nothin’ important-:

“Bullshit.”

Logan blinked, straightening up.

“The first time you tell me you love me, you just walk away?”

His heart skipped a beat, and he felt an odd flush sweep over his skin.

“That’s… darlin’...”

“Turn off the shower. Honestly. If you’re going to do this, do this right.”

“Wait… what?”

“You said you _love me._ You’re going to say it again. The _right way_ , so I can savor it.”

His lips quirked up in a lopsided smile. “Okay.”

“And we’re going to have a talk about what else you said. Don’t think you’re going to get off easy, mister.”

Logan huffed. He turned off the taps and took the towel she offered him. Ororo sat down on top of the toilet lid and crossed one leg over the other, waiting expectantly.

“Ya heard me?”

“Indeed. I did. I have opinions on what I heard. Strong ones.”

“Which parts?”

“That you could never be good enough for me.” Her expression never wavered, but there was strong emotion in her voice. “You aren’t giving me enough credit, Logan.”

“‘Ro...:”

“Because I know what I want. He’s standing in front of me, dripping and naked, and he needs to dry off and come back to bed. Immediately.”

Logan paused in drying his hair when she stood and took the towel away from him, closing the gap. Ororo looped it around his hips and used it to pull him in, lowering her head and kissing him, slow and soft. 

“Tell me again what you said. When you thought I wasn’t listening.”

“I love ya, darlin’. So damned much.”

“I love you, too. All of you. Not just the convenient parts. Not just what you choose to show me. Everything. Do you hear me, Logan? Every single thing."


End file.
